


I Just Need A Time and Place to Come Through

by kissesfromkrug



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Oral Sex, Promiscuity, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-04-22 18:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14314677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissesfromkrug/pseuds/kissesfromkrug
Summary: Auston needs Mitch like he needs air to breathe.Mitch needs Auston for just a few hours at a time.





	I Just Need A Time and Place to Come Through

**Author's Note:**

> Not for profit, fictional; feel free to point out any typos. :)
> 
> Title from the beautiful Khalid song "Location".
> 
> A late fic for Mitch’s birthday this past Saturday (21!!!!), but alas, ‘tis rather melancholy. I apologize. I was in a Mood this week.
> 
> (I might edit a lil of this later...based on the result.)

Mitch doesn’t want what Auston wants, and Auston knows it. He knows he’s being a fucking idiot, offering to be there for Mitch, but he couldn’t resist. It’s _Mitch_.

Every time Mitch shows up at Auston’s door, wide-eyed and needy and usually drunk, there’s no stopping either of them. Auston takes him in, gives him exactly what he needs, and lets him walk right back out that door.

Auston hates it—but he loves Mitch. He’d do anything for him.

* * *

"Aus, please, I need it," Mitch begs, on his hands and knees on Auston’s bed in his new condo. "Please fuck me."

"Anything for you, baby, anything," Auston coos, not at all far from the truth. He knows how much Mitch likes sweet-talking and pet names—and how much he loves being shoved around on other nights. He’s become an expert at Mitchology.

Tonight is a sweet night. He hasn’t been like this in a while.

"Please, more," Mitch gasps, shoving back on Auston’s two thick fingers, and Auston presses a kiss to his lower back as he slips in a third. "Fuck, yes."

Auston runs a hand up Mitch’s spine and wraps it around his neck, squeezing once. Mitch whines, head dropping between his shoulder blades. Auston speeds up the steady pumping of his fingers inside Mitch, smiling as Mitch shouts when he twists his fingers to the side. "Ugh, _fuck._ "

"You got it, sweetheart, you can do it."

"I want—I want more, Aus, please," Mitch says, fisting his hands more tightly in the sheets. "More, please, I want it, wanna feel you inside me."

And, well. Auston’s not gonna turn _that_ down.

* * *

It doesn’t just happen at home, either.

Many a time, when Mitch has struck out at the bar—or didn’t really try too hard; sometimes Auston thinks Mitch knows how easy he is for Mitch, maybe even how in love he is—he goes to find Auston and wraps him right around his nimble finger.

"I wanna ride you," Mitch whispers in Auston’s ear on the elevator ride up to their floor. He’s listing dangerously into Auston’s side, a sign of his low alcohol tolerance, with lips too close to Auston’s ear to be publicly acceptable.

Auston bites his lip and nods, not trusting his voice to say something stupid. Mitch presses a wet kiss to the side of his neck as the doors open, trailing after Auston towards their room.

The door can’t open fast enough.

Mitch pants into Auston’s mouth, murmuring something neither of them can understand, already working on their belts and zippers as they make out against the wall. Auston sucks on Mitch’s tongue in reply and shoves his hands down the back of Mitch’s slacks, simultaneously pushing them down and grabbing handfuls of Mitch’s ass.

Mitch tilts his head back and shoves his hips forward, grinding them into Auston’s hard enough to make it feel like heaven. Auston moans and squeezes Mitch harder, getting his tongue between Mitch’s open pink lips and licking inside his mouth.

"Fuck, Aus, c’mon, fuck me," Mitch mumbles, nearly chanting Auston’s name. "Aus, fuck, please, please, fuck me."

Auston never says no to him.

* * *

Auston’s never done this; not for Mitch, at least.

Mitch is always the one on his knees, begging for Auston to fuck his face because whatever stranger he put the moves on wouldn’t go for it that night.

Mitch is always the one with red mouth dropped open, tongue lolling out, eyes wet and wide, hands groping Auston’s thighs desperately. It’s never like this.

Auston never sees Mitch with head tilted back, hand in Auston’s hair as he moans into the empty hotel room. Never sees his knees shake from this angle, free hand pressed to the wall to hold himself up.

"Stay quiet," Auston says as he pulls off Mitch’s cock, letting the tip rest on his bottom lip. Mitch groans again, then bites into his palm to silence himself.

"Please," he mumbles. Auston tries not to squirm as Mitch’s hand tightens in his hair, tugging him back down on his dick.

"Feisty." Auston’s voice cracks, jaw beginning to throb already. He doesn’t usually do this.

Mitch just bites his lip and gasps into his hand as Auston sinks back down, fighting off the urge to choke and pull back. He bobs up and down to match the thumping of his heart in his ears, letting himself drown in the sound of Mitch’s far-off moans.

Maybe he _should_ do this more often.

* * *

The sound of skin-on-skin echoes through the room as Auston pounds into Mitch from behind, this time fucking out the ache of a horrible loss. One Auston would rather forget; and Mitch too, apparently. He didn’t even try to pick up a stranger first.

"Ugh, fuck—harder," he pants into the pillow. His fingers curl around the sheets when Auston gives him exactly what he wants, what he needs.

His hands are tight on Mitch’s hips, pressing hard enough to bruise. Mitch wanted it rough. Wants it, needs it. He tilts his hips back and gasps, face crinkled in an expression of desperate desire and need.

"More," he rasps, taking in a shuddering breath. Auston braces a hand next to Mitch’s rib cage and leans over him, mouth hot on the back of his neck. He presses a kiss there, then to Mitch's shoulder.

"Anything for you, baby," Auston murmurs.

Mitch’s next noise sounds even more needy, and with each thrust, each plea Auston wrings out of Mitch’s gaping mouth, they venture closer to the edge of no return.

It may be an overreaction, too ominous, but Auston sees the end before it begins.

* * *

Mitch’s hands roam over Auston’s naked body, simply admiring the lines and curves, dips and scars in his skin. Auston said Mitch could have whatever he wanted, says it every time they get like this. Mitch has never wanted something so simple.

Then again, the ties rather negate the "simple" part of it.

Mitch tweaks Auston’s nipple, then leans down to mouth at it. Auston jerks and yells, gritting his teeth as Mitch laughs. He repeats the motion, Auston’s squirming doing nothing to deter him. "Stay still, Aus." Aus.

They agreed not to use their personal nicknames in bed, but it’s too late. "Mitchy," Auston groans in reply at the fingers trailing up the inside of his thigh. "C’mon."

"You said I could have whatever I want," Mitch says thoughtfully, like he isn’t pinching and biting at the delicate skin mere inches from his heavy, leaking cock. "This is what I want."

"Can you—want it a little faster?" Auston throws his head back, teeth nearly biting through his lip as Mitch sucks the head of his cock into his lucious mouth. He dips down until his nose is at Auston’s stomach, and Auston’s heart drops to his toes.

He feels Mitch swallow around him once, twice, then pull back, creating a steady rhythm that has Auston’s toes curling. He encourages Mitch on with soft pants, dirty little phrases to get Mitch to go harder.

Auston realizes he’s deeply, hopelessly, horribly in love as Mitch pulls back, licking his lips and smiling like he’s never done anything he’s enjoyed more. He sits back on his knees and watches as Auston lets his eyes fall shut, exhaling deeply.

"Lemme—" He tries, and Mitch’s soft fingers stroking and massaging at his wrists and ankles only push him further into his love-induced haze.

Auston is fucked, in more ways than one.

He can’t come back from this. 

* * *

Mitch doesn’t love him, not really. He loves the way Auston makes him feel in bed, how he bends to Mitch’s demands and craves Mitch’s every groan. He loves how Auston will never say no to anything he wants, doing whatever he wants, whenever and however he wants.

But he doesn’t love _Auston_.

He loves Auston as his best friend. It’s not enough.

They’re not lovers, never will be, and Auston needs himself to get over that fact pretty damn fast.

But Mitch comes to his hotel room, drunk and maybe a little high, looking for someone—Auston—to screw him into the mattress, and Auston’s helpless to resist.

* * *

They don’t stop. Auston knows how much they need to, but—he can’t. He can’t even explain, but he needs it. Needs the feeling, however temporary, of being wanted, being needed, even if only for sex.

They exchange handies and blowies regularly, Auston fucking Mitch every couple weeks when he needs it, Mitch fingering Auston while on his knees to feel at least a little in control.

As if he doesn’t already own Auston’s heart.

* * *

"Please, let me," Mitch says, hands on Auston’s hips as the shower water flattens Auston’s hair over his face. "I wanna try something."

Auston just watches him, Mitch biting his lip before he falls to his knees and slides his hands from Auston’s knees back up to his waist. He admires Auston’s thighs, rubbing over them and kissing up them as Auston sucks in a deep breath.

"I have an idea," Mitch says, eyes focused on Auston’s dick, starting to get with the program. "Can I—"

"Yeah, whatever you want," Auston says, a little too breathy for how short of a time they’ve been messing around under the near-scalding water. He hasn’t even gotten his dick touched yet.

Mitch sucks on his lower lip, water droplets like sparkles on his eyelashes. He leans in and takes Auston in, one hand at the base of his cock and the other curling around the jut of his hipbone, reaching toward his ass. Auston just focuses on the parts of Mitch he can see when he looks down, holding back his moans when Mitch flits his eyes up as if to ask "is this okay?"

 _It will never, ever,_ ever _not be okay to look like that_ , Auston thinks, reaching for Mitch’s dark hair. _But it’ll never be_ right.

*

Auston falls backwards onto the bed, sated and drowsy as Mitch scrambles on top of him and kisses what little breath he has left right out of him. Mitch’s knees bracket Auston’s hips, tongue smoothly parting Auston’s lips like a sigh.

"Can I fuck you?" Mitch asks, something he’s never asked before. Auston’s hips jerk up instinctively. It’s been a long, _long_ time since he’s done that.

"Mm," is Auston’s only reply, closing his eyes and grabbing for Mitch. Another deep kiss is planted on his mouth before he hears Mitch pulling open the drawer, but Auston is still stuck focusing on how deliciously filthy the sound is, the one of their mouths slowly separating after an equally filthy kiss.

One finger, then two, then Auston is breathlessly begging for three, face tilted towards the ceiling as he tries to push back on Mitch. "I got you," Mitch says, thrusting his fingers in hard and fast. "I got you, baby, I got you, you’re so good, so hot."

" _Fuck_ ," Auston pants, hands scratching at Mitch’s shoulders. "I can do more."

"Just wanna make sure you don’t get hurt," Mitch murmurs, almost as if he didn’t mean for Auston to hear it. It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said to Auston.

Auston just arches his back and groans, and Mitch adds another finger and curls them just right. A whine escapes Auston’s kiss-swollen lips, nearly sobbing as Mitch hits the spot again, and again, and again. And again.

It’s not something foreign to him, but the way Mitch makes him feel is just—

" _Please_ , just—come _on,_ you f—"

"Yeah, yeah," Mitch agrees quickly, pulling out his fingers and patting Auston’s knee when he squirms.

Auston doesn’t know how long Mitch has been hard, but he’s probably dying; that thought is only reinforced by the way Mitch hastily scrambles for a condom. Auston’s dick has long since been reintroduced to the party; since Mitch pushed in his second finger.

Mitch sits in front of Auston, messy hair and wide eyes and hard dick and flush spreading down from his face to his chest and shoulders; all of him looking devastatingly perfect, and all of a sudden, Auston just—breaks.

"Mitchy— _god_ _,_ just do it, please," Auston begs, beyond caring how wrecked he sounds. He’s never felt this turned on in his life, never been so shameless. He squeezes his eyes shut and bares his throat, turning his face away. "Fuck me, please, please—"

"You’re so fucking hot, fuck," Mitch interrupts, sounding weak with arousal. Auston can’t resist, looking down again to see Mitch holding Auston’s thighs apart as he so, so slowly pushes in, inch by agonizing inch. "Holy _shit_ , you’re tight." It’s the hottest thing in the world to see Mitch like this, hair falling in front of his face as he bows his head and grits his teeth to keep from groaning.

It feels like—perfection. He’s missed this.

"So good," Auston breathes, spreading his thighs even farther apart. "So good."

The moment Mitch moans out just how perfect and tight Auston feels, Auston realizes, for the final time, that he can’t do this anymore.

* * *

Mitch finds Auston sitting on his bed, facing the window, scrolling through social media. Auston pretends not to hear him; thanks to his earbuds, he can feign it well enough until Mitch falls onto the bed just behind him.

"You down?" Mitch asks right in his ear, tugging out one earbud. "This guy I was chatting with wasn’t feeling up to it, so I thought I’d come to you." Even from the side, Auston can smell the alcohol on his breath.

Of course he’d come to Auston. Auston’s never backed out, not even when he wasn’t feeling 100%—and Mitch knows it. The way he doesn’t even ask, just assumes he’ll get a yes. It’s always been a yes.

Until now.

"Nah, not tonight," Auston says, not looking up. "Get some sleep, we have early practice tomorrow."

"Aww, c’mon Matty, what’s wrong with messing around one more time before the All-Star Break? I won’t bother you till after," Mitch purrs, running his fingers up Auston’s back. His arms lace around Auston’s neck and tug him closer to Mitch’s mouth. "What if I just wanna suck you off? I don’t have to top." Auston can hear him lick his lips, shivering. "I know how much you like to top me."

"Marns, seriously, not tonight."

"Why so grumpy?" Mitch asks, obviously pouting. "Did I do something?" He kisses Auston ear and down his neck, lingering at the collar of his shirt. "I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you."

Auston shuts off his phone and tosses it aside, turning to face Mitch. "You didn’t do anything."

"I didn’t?" Mitch brightens. It doesn’t take much to please him. Obviously.

"No," he vows, "But we can’t—just one more time." Auston grips Mitch’s chin in his hand to make sure he’s listening. Mitch has glitter in his hair and on his cheekbones, stuck to him with sweat, and for a split second Auston thinks he’s seen an angel.

Mitch hardly even processes the words as he shoves Auston down and scoots down the bed, on hands and knees with a heated look in his eyes. His nails lightly scratch up Auston’s legs through his sweats, making sure he’s as taken apart as he can be before he’s even touched Auston’s dick.

Auston was foolish to think he’d be able to resist.

* * *

Auston lets go. After the All-Star Break, he rooms with Willy, never going anywhere alone for drinks, and certainly not anywhere involving Mitch and a bed.

It’s fine, he knows the guys know something is up with all the depressing puppy dog eyes Mitch sends him whenever Auston ignores him, in the club or bar when too many drinks are on the counter in front of Mitch.

*

He knew _it_ was happening, but had never actually been a witness—thank god. _It_ being one of Mitch’s probably-countless hookups. He should’ve figured Mitch wouldn’t stop, even without Auston as his go-to on his unlucky nights.

Auston is on his bed, watching Netflix on his computer, when the time finally comes. He hears it before he sees it.

Mitch, of all people, has entered his apartment—Auston forgot Mitch still has a key—and he’s not alone. Of course not.

The time is 11:16, Auston wants to watch his movie in peace, and Mitch is tramping down the hallway with some—girl, this time. He turns up the volume on his headphones and tries to focus, but his door creaks open.

"Wanna join?" Mitch grins, slurring his words as Auston pauses his movie. "Seem kinda...lonely lately, eh?" The girl next to him is short and blonde, hanging onto his side like they physically can’t separate, eyeing Auston with marked interest. Her red sparkly dress barely reaches halfway down her thighs, and Auston notices the glitter on Mitch’s chest.

Auston swallows and shakes his head, shifting his eyes back to the computer and pretending he can’t see anything else, trying to achieve the highest level of nonchalance he can muster up. The girl giggles before Mitch closes the door while saying something probably stupid.

Auston bites his lip hard enough to leave a mark, fisting his hands in the sheets and trying not to scream when he hears movement in the room next to him, the guest room Mitch had claimed when he hadn’t claimed Auston’s body for the night. Auston might miss those nights like he misses sunsets in the desert, fiercely beautiful and breathtaking—but he knows it’s for the best.

Mitch will and can go on without Auston. Auston will have to do the same in his own way.

**Author's Note:**

> Additional items you may or may not need to know, if you hadn’t picked up on it already:
> 
> 1) Mitch is very, very open about his bisexuality, but he’s still quiet about it in media settings
> 
> 2) Small mention of ties and the like
> 
> 3) Could be dubious consent by Auston for some of this, but most of it is unspecific 
> 
> 4) Clarifier—Auston is in love; therefore, he’ll do anything to make Mitch happy unless it kills him...


End file.
